


Tempted

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Biting, Blood Drinking, Dragon Jonathan, Fear, Hallucinations, M/M, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Medical Procedures, Medical Torture, Mind Games, Nightmares, pacifist Jonathan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23748427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: "McCullum.”The word purred out into his ear, rumbled and echoed like the growl of a large predator. The sharp scent of copper lingered in his nostrils punctuated by the searing pain in his neck. It ebbed and flowed in increasing clarity before receding into the faded wisps of nothingness. Then returned, just as fierce, flaring beneath his skin like a fire purging his veins of corruption. Or maybe, just maybe, the fire was its own corruption, all consuming and destructive.Geoffrey tried to move, forcing his eyes open to gaze into an endless darkness far too thick to make out a shadow or shape. He could feel the cold washing over his side where the creature cooed to him so sweetly with its song, lulling at a false sense of security that hummed in his bones. A familiarity that went beyond blood and the idle bonds of comradery. This was the primal nature of a beast beyond any mundane perspective. Wild and untamed by the likes of man, teeth sharp and bared against his flesh. Eager and waiting for a twitch of muscle, a flex of his will, any shudder, sigh or shiver that provoked it into the feral attack it hungered for.
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Comments: 9
Kudos: 83





	Tempted

**Author's Note:**

> This was a spur of the moment idea where I sat down and wrote it immediately. I hope it is satisfactory and please leave a comment below on what you think.

_“McCullum.”_

The word purred out into his ear, rumbled and echoed like the growl of a large predator. The sharp scent of copper lingered in his nostrils punctuated by the searing pain in his neck. It ebbed and flowed in increasing clarity before receding into the faded wisps of nothingness. Then returned, just as fierce, flaring beneath his skin like a fire purging his veins of corruption. Or maybe, just maybe, the fire was its own corruption, all consuming and destructive.

Geoffrey tried to move, forcing his eyes open to gaze into an endless darkness far too thick to make out a shadow or shape. He could feel the cold washing over his side where the creature cooed to him so sweetly with its song, lulling at a false sense of security that hummed in his bones. A familiarity that went beyond blood and the idle bonds of comradery. This was the primal nature of a beast beyond any mundane perspective. Wild and untamed by the likes of man, teeth sharp and bared against his flesh. Eager and waiting for a twitch of muscle, a flex of his will, any shudder, sigh or shiver that provoked it into the feral attack it hungered for.

He squirmed beneath its fiery touch, as claws dragged in slow stretches down his chest. Fingers flexed and nimble in their work, skilled, tender and determined in their endeavors to map out every vein and pulse point that fed its intuition and its temptation. He struggled against it, twisted and writhed but the darkness prevented him from seeing the creature that lurked in his nightmares. It tormented his mind with illusions that thwarted his senses and left him tail spinning with dizziness whipped through his head like a ship in a hurricane storm.

He groaned, reeled back and tried to strike at the approaching foe but found only resistance. A constant pressure that compelled him into an infuriated pretzel. After a few more attempts, he recognized the padded restraints that enveloped his arms and buckled around his chest. Tight and unforgiving. The swell of heat that wrapped around his body only fed the panic. He struggled and cursed under his breath, legs kicking blindly into the dark to find some sense of which way was up and some purchase to fend against the garment that imprisoned him. He felt the straps pulling and seizing with every heave, tightening further in his attempts in a futile woven work that held even the most insane and unhinged in place.

A tongue clicked, a mocking of his plights. “What is a hunter but confused prey?” That timbre voice, those rolling syllables, the smooth curve of his voice that rang in his ears. Geoffrey knew the supposed _Good Doctor Reid._ A wolf in sheep’s cloth. A parasite pretending to be symbiotic in its existence. He was nothing more than a fraud. A charlatan. A liar.

Geoffrey felt the sting of his bite. Witnessed the work of those claws as they ripped through sinew and muscle as if it were but a trifle. He felt the pain that bled into his bones, that accursed fire that burned like liquified metal. It scorched and he screamed, voice broken and bloodied by the agony that unraveled him inside.

“What have you done to me?” He cried out, wide blue eyes searched the darkness, desperate to find the creature that hunted him. To see the monster that masqueraded as the man.

“What is ocean but idle rain?” It came, melodic, taunting.

Geoffrey managed to find purchase and get his feet underneath him. His ears pricked as he chased the displaced chill of shadows in a wary approach. He wasn’t expecting the sudden impact against his side as he collided with what he could now make out, to be a door. What would have been metal or wood was padded around a cool glass frame, far too narrow to break and reach through but wide and long enough to peer outside. Or, by the state of his growing paranoia, inside at the unfortunate soul locked within.

He felt the pinprick of something sharp on his skin, digging at the collar of his neck before shadows swirled against the side of his face. Fingers carded through the disheveled locks of his hair as it fell fitfully before his eyes. The pointed edge of Reid’s claws scraped against his skin and spurred on ungodly shivers of delight and stirred a growing heat that pooled in the base of his stomach. Geoffrey ignored the hands that caressed his hips or the weight against his back that pinned him against the door. The cold numbed the side of his face as he tried once more to make sense of the world outside but the darkness was all consuming. And Reid’s voice whispered horrible temptations into his ears.

The world swam in a dizzying spell that caused Geoffrey to lose all strength that kept him on his feet. He fumbled then wilted like a dying flower, collapsed into the open awaiting arms of the beast that trapped him.

  
  


The darkness stole his understanding of time and clouded the activity between. He drifted on a wave of fog as it compelled him into an easy relaxed state. When he roused from his dreamless sleep, he felt the familiar burn in his arms again. The pain wasn’t as bad as before but it was still there, lurking beneath the surface. There was a single light above him, far too bright for his sensitive eyes to see, forcing him to squeeze them shut and let them adjust.

He squinted, peering down at himself as he noticed this time he was lying down. The table was cold against his back but slowly growing warm in contact with his skin. His shirt was gone, the chill nipped along his chest and left a sprinkling of gooseflesh in its path. He craned his head up to find his arms secured in padded restraints locked to the table itself. But that worried him the least at the moment. Instead, his attention weighed on the tubes that were inserted into both arms. Blood steadily inching along the narrow passages into some unseen hole. The stench of disinfectant made him wrinkle his nose as he glanced back down at himself.

His trousers were stained in red streaks, the knees muddy and sticky to the skin where he had been forced to kneel. His boots were speckled in the dark flecks of decay and the remnants of his earlier hunt.

‘ _That’s right. A hunt.’_

He recalled distantly. He’d been out hunting something. Or _someone._

“You found it dear hunter.” The voice chimed up, the cold fingers of death reached down to card through Geoffrey’s hair and caress his jaw, forcing the hunter to gaze up past the bright searing light. Just beyond the glare, the doctor loomed. Red eyes aflame in the light, glistening like pools of blood spilled across wet cobblestone and glossy in the faint shards of moonlight that dared grace the dreary London streets.

He remembered now. The flickering shadows that enveloped him as blood splattered the grimy stones of a dark alley. The sheen of sweat that dappled his skin in the heat of battle was a cold reminder that seeped into his bones. The white fog puffing out into the air from every heave of his lungs as they burned in refusal to obey. The pain that tore through his body as an unforgiving weight pinned him to the earth. The piercing agony of teeth ripping into flesh.

“Don’t be so dramatic, hunter. It wasn’t that bad.” Reid chided like a disappointed parent. His fangs bared in clear view of Geoffrey’s eyes. He tilted his head to meet that furious glare that settled on stern features. The rugged texture of Geoffrey’s beard conflicted against the tender touch of skilled hands gingerly outlining his jaw, tracing the muscle that jumped, tense in its disapproval. Jonathan’s thumb slid against his pulse point and sighed. “Such an enticing bouquet.”

Geoffrey blatantly ignored the shiver that skirted down his spine at those purred words. He definitely ignored the sudden tightness that formed in his trousers and the heat that curled in his chest as he continued to meet the beast face to face. He ignored the ginger touch of hands tracing along his neck and down to his collarbone, inspecting every twitch of muscle and curve of bone as if he were admiring a carefully procured and extremely expensive painting or the intricacies of legendary architecture.

“Get your hands off me, leech!” Geoffrey cursed, flexing his wrists in the restraints as every nerve in his body sang with the desire to punch the beast.

“You fool yourself into believing lies, McCullum.” Reid tutted. “Your heart leaps with excitement every time I lay eyes upon you. Why do you think that is?”

“What can I say? The hunt excites me and I dream of the day I can put your head on a spike.” Geoffrey chuckled, a darker note fluttering underneath, faded and weak at the whims of the ekon. His hands stole away the breath from Geoffrey’s chest as he dipped down and crashed their lips together. A pain swelled in his ribs, a suffocating sensation that felt like they were about to break and collapse. He struggled against the restraints and tried to tear away, as his body burned for oxygen. Reid’s hands gripped his jaw in a vice and refused to allow him any sort of mercy.

It was only when Geoffrey was on the verge of losing consciousness that he finally gave in and let the hunter gasp in the stale air. His chest rose in quick sharp breaths that fell into a fit of coughing. A rough sensation worming up his throat, like grated sandpaper against his skin. The twisting pain in his stomach threatened something more, fending off the growing desperation that hummed in his veins.

Reid’s hands withdrew, a slow retreat as the beast hissed. Lips curled back into a snarl, fangs sharp and prepared to strike but he didn’t approach the hunter. Instead, Geoffrey craned his neck to keep track of the beast as it melted back into the shadows.His vision swooned and faded with a dizziness, drawing his attention back towards the tubes that were still bleeding him dry. He pulled against the padded restraints and fought for freedom even as his life ebbed away like waves receding from the shoreline with the change of the tides.

  
  


Time was a fickle matter to the hunter. It had no concrete existence when only darkness remained an ever constant looming beast in his thoughts.

The only intruder came in the form of pain. But now, it was something new and confusing that mingled with it. Geoffrey was slowly becoming aware of the situation when claws raked over the flat of his stomach and outlined the trembling muscle that flexed beneath the tentative pads. Red eyes met his gaze in the darkness but Geoffrey could feel so much more. The warm wet tongue that lavished the crook of his neck and the scrape of fangs dancing against his skin in warning. His wrists were bound behind his back but his legs were spread with Reid slotted firmly between them.

The ekon rutted against him, the hard press of his arousal grinding through their clothed crotches against Geoffrey’s own shameful excitement. He couldn’t deny the fact his hips rose to meet Reid’s or the heavy sounds that fell from his chest. He muffled the groans that followed when those sharp claws trailed lightly down his spine, inciting little shivers of pleasure. The suckling dark marks left behind on pale skin had the Irishman squirming, caught between the instinctive need to flee the beast that wanted his blood but warring against the primal need to seek out that rare pleasure he allowed himself. He ground up into Reid and heard the snarl against the shell of his ear. The warm breath on his wet skin, the traitorous jerks of his hips as he lined them up until he found ecstasy in the friction. His head tipped back, eyes fluttered shut as Reid’s fangs met the tender flesh of his neck and dug in.

Geoffrey came with a fumbled cry on his lips, calling out the ekon’s name in desperation as he chased the last remnants of orgasm that bled from his body. The boiling heat of his guts shifted into shame and guilt, flooding his face with the embarrassment of his actions. His breath hitched as Reid’s hips stuttered against his, following through on his own relief as he drank, drawing deep from Geoffrey’s will and pulling the man beneath the threshold of euphoria.

Geoffrey’s thoughts faded in broken shadows, desperate fingers clawing numbly against the shroud of indifference cast over his mind. He bared his teeth in a feral snarl all his own as he struggled to gain a foothold in the situation. He dragged himself as if pulling a corpse from the grave, nails bloodied and dulled by the efforts of its desperation to fight against the death another had chosen for him.

His struggles gained fruit in their efforts as the binds that held him in place this time weakened and unraveled. He forced one hand against the ekon’s chest, a pitiful attempt to shove him away with his quickly dwindling strength. The other went for a weak spot as he drove his thumb into the soft tissue of Reid’s eye. The beast screamed in pain, whirling away from the sudden attack with a snarl echoing into the darkness that blanketed the room. Geoffrey stumbled to his feet and raised his fists in an unsteady stance. His eyes searched the room, still just as sharp despite the trembling in his legs and the uncomfortable heat clinging to his thigh.

“Come on ya bastard.” Geoffrey challenged, shoulders tense as he followed the silhouette that tracked him, circling the room in a drifting silence. “I’m not going to let a leech take me so easily.”

“ _A leech?_ ” Reid called, a haughty laugh bubbled up from the man’s chest but it was wrong. It wasn’t the Jonathan that Geoffrey knew so well. In the faint wisps of memories he could still grasp, he was well aware that the Jonathan he knew wouldn’t fall so low. He could be an insufferable bastard at times, tightly wound or just plain infuriating for his optimistic ideals and the unerring determination to prove the guard wrong in every expectation imaginable.

“You’re nothing more than a fraud.” Geoffrey challenged. “A coward.” The word was spat from his lips, leaving a dark smear of blood on the ground at his feet.

“You prey on the weak because it’s all you have left to make you feel powerful.” 

“ _What does that mean for you, hunter?_ ” The beast challenged, its shape changing, morphing, bleeding out into endless shadows. A figment of its former existence. It shed the skin of the doctor that had become such a focal point in Geoffrey’s life and allowed the hunter to observe its true nature. It was a twisted lie, savoring the image of loved ones and poisoning it into something dark and demented. The image of Jonathan that Geoffrey had imagined upon their first meeting, a charming monster with sharp teeth and an even sharper tongue. But Geoffrey knew better. He knew the truth behind the manners and the title. He knew the man beneath was no monster in hiding.

“It means I was weak but only for a moment. You got lucky beast but I swear I’ll hunt you down and I’ll end you myself.” It was a promise. One that the creature purred at with a thrill of excitement underlying its tone. The shadows trembled as if shuddering in anticipation.

“ _I look forward to it._ ” The parting words were faint, a whisper in the hunter’s ear as the beast vanished and Geoffrey felt the world give out around him. His body jolted suddenly as the rush of falling surrounded him. Pain blossomed in his chest and the side of his face, an explosion of sensations that jarred him back to his senses.

  
  
  


“Geoffrey?” The voice was a smooth familiar note riddled with concern. “Geoffrey, can you hear me? It’s Jonathan.”

Geoffrey blinked open his eyes and immediately regretted it. They were assaulted by the bright lights shining above. A groan filtered from his chest, raspy and broken by the raw state of his throat. He tried for a swallow but it felt stuck, as if it were glued closed causing him to try again. It only furthered the discomfort he was feeling.

“Geoffrey?” Jonathan tried once more, a gentle hand rested delicately against his cheek, mindful of the bandages plastered against his skin. The touch was cool, soothing the heat that sparked at the jolt of pain earlier. Geoffrey opened his eyes more slowly and made out the blurry silhouette of the doctor.

“That really you, Jonathan?” Geoffrey croaked, a hoarse sound that was utterly awful to his ears. “I swear if this is some trick again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I assure you, this is no trick Geoffrey.” The hunter felt Jonathan take his hand in his, a gentle touch filled with a sort of sincerity Geoffrey only knew from one man. He felt the curl of cool fingers weaving into his, the cautious squeeze that didn’t jar his arm and worsen the pain that throbbed throughout his entire body. “I’m really here.”

Geoffrey focused on the ekon’s voice and blinked to clear his vision. His lips twitched into a smile when he recognized the crooked bend of his nose and the slight pink line beneath the doctor’s eye where an old scar lingered. But what assured him the most was the clear, pale blue eyes that shined back at him in the bright lights of the hospital. The genuine concern that knitted his brows and the fretful scrutiny that searched Geoffrey for some kind of answer as to what caused the hunter so much distress in his presence.

Geoffrey relaxed as Jonathan’s free hand rose up to linger against his cheek then slid up towards his forehead, a silent test of his temperature that appeared to end satisfactorily. Geoffrey’s eyes fluttered with a sigh as Jonathan’s hand carded through his hair, drawing the wayward strands out of his eyes. “What happened?”

“Your men brought you to the hospital after a fight with a particularly strong ekon. Your left arm was fractured in three places, two broken ribs and a minor head injury. I was forced to operate to stabilize your arm.” Jonathan explained, straightening up to settle back into the chair he’d been perched in by Geoffrey’s bedside. “You’re very lucky to be alive.”

“I’m gonna kill that bastard when I get my hands on him.” Geoffrey growled out, tipping his head up just enough to see his arm was immobilized and in a cast. He was dressed down in a simple hospital gown. The thin material was itchy and he felt disturbingly vulnerable and not just because he lacked a weapon to stab unsuspecting leeches with.

“I’m glad to hear you’ve retained your spirit.” Jonathan chimed tiredly. The weariness of a long night weighed on his shoulders but he managed a smile in Geoffrey’s presence. It was genuine and warm, even as cold fingers found solace in Geoffrey’s grasp as the hunter returned the gentle squeeze. He didn’t have much strength to offer in the gesture but it counted enough to soothe Jonathan’s fears.

“You um…” Jonathan’s words trailed as he pursed his lips. Conflict clouded his eyes for a moment before he forged on with his question. He worked the words he wanted to say around in his mouth as he tried again. “There were a few times that you called out my name. You sounded….desperate. Or maybe the better word is conflicted? You were upset by it. _By me._ At least it seemed.”

Jonathan looked away, a bashful expression as he shrugged the thought aside. “I could just be reading into it too much. You had a concussion after all.”

“The ekon that attacked me-” Geoffrey started quickly, his words falling from his lips before he could stop himself. He knew he was only making himself a fool in admitting such things but he felt it would only be right. “He got in my head. Made me see things that weren’t real. He wanted to hurt me, to use my fear as a weapon to strike back at me.” He sucked in a deep breath then winced as pain expanded in his chest and sliced through his ribs like a hot knife. He grimaced, staring bitterly down at the off white thin blanket that was draped over him and the scratchy material against his skin. He ignored the pungent stench of heavy disinfectant and the way his head felt all fuzzy and swam when he tried to focus too hard on shapes or voices down the hall. He closed his eyes and breathed through it, easing himself through the pain.

“It took on your likeness. A version of you. A red eyed demon with no care for human life.” Geoffrey finally admitted, feeling the weight sink down into his chest. He wanted to succumb under the pressure as he waited for Jonathan’s response. Normally this would be the part where he’d flee, but given the circumstances, he didn’t have the luxury. Maybe it was the drugs running through his veins or the blood loss or whatever other excuses he could make up as to why he suddenly felt like lowering his guard and letting Jonathan in.

“It wasn’t real, Geoffrey.” Jonathan assured, his cool fingers spread between Geoffrey’s warmer touch as he gripped his hand a little harder. “I’m real and here now. I wouldn’t bring any harm to you, you have my promise.” Jonathan could see the troubled expression that laid heavily in Geoffrey’s eyes and lingered in his thoughts. The sharp change in his pulse when he spoke of these troubles that plagued his mind.

“I know that.” He sighed, this time more careful of his ribs as he adjusted to work around the problem. “I didn’t let it fool me. I know the real you, Jonathan Emmet Reid. I know the man you are better than anyone.”

“I’m glad.” The ekon sighed, leaning back in the chair as he cast a wary eye towards the windows overlooking the small private recovery room Geoffrey was placed in. the hunter didn’t miss the frown that pinched the ekon’s expression and it didn’t take much to put two and two together.

“It’s almost dawn.” It was a guess.

Jonathan nodded solemnly. A pained expression twisted his typically charming features into something haunted and conflicted.

“I’ll be fine Jonathan.” He assured.

“If you need anything-”

“If I need anything I’ll just stubbornly wait for you to wake your arse up and come tend to me yourself.” There was a heavily teasing tone to the words, lacking in the bite that would usually nip at the ends of their banter. Things were calm now. Content almost, Geoffrey would reckon. He was still worn out from the ordeal, and not just the physical exhaustion that settled deep in his bones. That leech bastard did a number on him mentally but knowing Jonathan was just a floor away put his mind at ease.

“You really shouldn’t be so extreme Geoffrey.” Jonathan chuckled. “Though, I’m certain your men will come to visit later today so you’ll be in good hands between now and then.”

“Just keep that Nurse Branagan off my back and I’ll be fine.” They both shared in the laugh as Jonathan traced a finger over Geoffrey’s knuckle, apprehensive to release the man now that he woke up. It was a peculiar thing but Geoffrey didn’t mind the company even as they played a devil’s game with the sun’s brisk approach.


End file.
